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Z is not tired of life

As I write, there’s still half an hour before I board my train home, but I’ve arrived at the station so here I am. This has been one of the shortest holidays I could have had, but was well up among some of the best. I found a combination that suited me very well, really enjoyable meetings with friends, plenty of time to walk and enjoy London and also visits to museums and galleries to see a wealth of interesting and beautiful artefacts and pictures. Add to that, down-time to read and relax in the cocoon of a hotel room, and I seem to have hit on a perfect break. I haven’t managed to reply to comments or correct typos, so will do that from home. Today, of course, there has been the public sector strike. There were barriers up at Trafalgar Square, and lots of police, and some roads were closed, but only a few people, a group of ten, holding placards. I walked along the Strand, which was closed to traffic. Most people still walked on the pavements though. I walked down the central reservation for a while, until it occurred to me that I could enjoy the rare pleasure of strolling in the middle of the road. At the end of the Strand, I heard some toots and drumbeats and along came a procession of demonstrators. It all seemed calm and good natured, both on the part of the demonstrators and the police. I stood and watched for a few minutes and accepted a leaflet, although I binned it after a few minutes. I’d though I’d go and have a large glass of wine to mark the end of my break, but then I suddenly fancied edamame beans and headed into Wasabi in Fleet Street for sushi instead. Frankly, darlings, after the walking and moderate eating (notwithstanding meals with friends) that I’ve done this week, I’ll be mildly disappointed if I haven’t lost a millimetre or two from the waistline. I kept walking, having done and seen all that I’d wanted to in museums, and dodged down side streets and alleyways, losing myself while keeping a sense of direction. And now the train is in, so I will finish. Laters, darlings. ZSent from my iPhone

The Unobservant Eye of Z

Dramatis personae:
My husband, Lovely Tim or LT for short (though he is actually tall).
My late husband, the Sage, aka Russell.
My children: Dearest daughter Weeza, who has London Ways, is married to Phil. Their daughter is Zerlina Buttercup and their son is Augustus Bufo. Elder son - Al X, is married to Dilly. Their children are Squiffany Virgilia, Maximus Pugsley and Hadrian Swallow. Younger son - Ro married to Dora and their two-year-old is Rufus Russell.
Big Sister: Wink. She lives in Wiltshire, 230 miles away, but we're much closer than that.
We live with our cat Eloise, a black tortoiseshell half-Ragdoll.
Bantams live in the garden and cats live in the barns but we feed them and they have ambitions to be pets too. In addition, cows come to visit in the summer. Mostly, they stay in the fields. None of them has got a hoof in the door yet.
There is an annexe to the house, where Roses lives and her beloved, Lawrence, spends a lot of time there. Her son, Boy, lives there too.

Z’s blogroll

Updating takes too much memory, sorry - but then I'm not very young any more, so am hanging on to the memory I've got. Please don't look for any significance in the order - I'm not drunk but I am disorderly.

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Oh, what's the problem? This is hardly Great Literature. I'd appreciate anything taken from here being acknowledged, and I might change my mind if I'm suddenly proclaimed as the Literary Queen of the Blogosphere - but I probably wouldn't. Do what you like, just as long as it doesn't extend to defamation of anyone, even me.

Actually, you want to pass off what I say as your own, I might even be flattered. Let's face it, who cares anyway?